


Black Out Days

by eos_3



Category: Bleach
Genre: AU, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Broken Foursome, Comatose Orihime, Healing Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Nightmares, Pining, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Trauma, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-22 10:51:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2505191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eos_3/pseuds/eos_3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through the seasons Rukia accepts solace from Ichigo and Renji. Together they try to heal, and together they wait for Orihime to return to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Out Days

**Author's Note:**

> For Springkink: Prompt - July 31st - Bleach; Renji/Ichigo/Rukia: Solace- They'd nearly died, but the pulse and thrum of blood and heat of skin proclaimed them alive.

”Ow, ow!” Renji said, trying to glare back at Ichigo. “Your elbow's on my hair, damn it.”

Ichigo sat up a little on the big futon, which made the blanket raise and let the cold air in underneath. “It's always in the way. Maybe you should cut it,” he said, and pushed the offending lock out of the way so he could lay on his side against Renji again.

“Fuck no, I have great hair. You fucking love my hair.”

“Will you two please shut up and go to sleep?” Rukia hissed.

She heard Ichigo grumble and Renji pulled her a little closer, but they did. She still couldn't sleep.

XXXXXXXX

By all rights, each of them should be on their way to the next life, spirit particles streaming across existence. They should be moving on into a time and a place utterly detached from the tragedy and pain of the last violent expressions of the former one. Rukia imagined for herself a fresh start with new arms to hold her and love her; or not. It might be a relief to be unaware, lost to the complications and uncertainties of having a heart so full and so easy to compromise.

If any one of their group had died in the fight against Aizen, all of them would be dead; Rukia firmly believed it. Her friends were more like family now, and were so interdependent it would have been disaster. The bond she had with Renji and Ichigo was a little different than that she shared with the others, and while she'd gladly trade her life for any of her friends, she knew she felt closer to both of them. They felt the same by their own confession, which was where she began walking blindly, unable to find anything in her world to compare it to.

XXXXXXX

”Are you coming?” Rukia asked, as they dressed. Renji had gone before sunrise, like he always did, so he could beat her brother to the Sixth Division headquarters. She could see the sakura tree outside had burst into bloom finally, but she didn't feel any joy at it.

Ichigo had that familiar distant look in his eyes as he tied his sash, and he wasn't looking at her at all.

“I don't think so. Not today.”

She worked a tangle out of her hair with a bone comb that was carved with a rabbit.

“You should come. She can still hear you. I know she can,” she said.

Of all of them, he was the one that needed to be there the most. Why didn't he understand?

XXXXXXX

Rukia couldn't really talk about her relationship with Renji and Ichigo to anyone - except for Orihime, and Orihime, well... Rukia suspected Orihime would be another strand of this tricky love knot, if she weren't still in a coma. She doubted Ichigo or Renji knew how badly she wanted to feel Orihime embrace her again.

Rukia visited her in the hospice run by the Fourth Division almost every day. Sometimes the men came, but she understood when they didn't. Renji wasn't as close to Orihime, but he knew she was important to Rukia and Ichigo, so she was important to him. It was probably hardest for Ichigo, because Rukia knew he blamed himself for what happened. She knew Orihime would have hated that, but he had made a promise, one that Rukia felt no guilt for pushing him to make.

Seeing her laying there though, lively eyes closed, her bright hair dull and bound back while she was in stasis - more often than not it made Rukia weep. The web of complex healing kido over her glowed a steady warm orange, but didn't offer any comfort; Orihime was supposed to be the healer, not the healed.

XXXXXXXX

“Please wake up. Please, I miss you so much,” Rukia whispered, for what had to be the thousandth time.

She didn't notice Ichigo leaning in the doorway, until he was already turning away, sliding the door closed behind him.

XXXXXXXX

The rickety support system they built between one another worked well enough for now. She and Renji beat up Ichigo when his resolve wavered, Renji and Ichigo caressed and coaxed her out when she withdrew herself, she and Ichigo teased Renji mercilessly when he got sulky. They waited, worked, slept, woke each other from nightmares left over from the war, which wracked them in the night. There was relief in two sets of steady heartbeats and the heat of a pair of welcoming bodies.

Renji had always known just how to touch her, could make her nerves sing every time with just a soft breath, and she'd always liked that he wasn't afraid to be a little rough with her. Ichigo, on the other hand, with his ridiculously strong reiatsu, when he wrapped his arms around her, Rukia felt safer than she'd ever thought possible. It was interesting learning balance, finding out ways to share and not to just let them dominate her, or get lost between them.

XXXXXXX

Rukia moaned. She was getting close, very close.

The moon was high and yellow, green-gold fireflies dancing in soft, lazy arcs in the warm air above them. She barely noticed. She was on her back, her yukata wide open, and she was not quite sure where her underclothes were. After all the sake and Renji moving fast and slick between her legs she didn't really care.

Renji slowed, then shifted and arched down over her, onto his hands and knees, panting, his hair making a thick red curtain. Rukia couldn't see Ichigo, but could feel his hands loop under her knees. He gripped her legs firmly and then, holding Renji inside of her, he made Renji rock forward with the hard thrust of his cock inside of him. She had enough freedom of movement that she could change the pace a little if she wanted, but right now she was just going to let them fuck her.

Later, Rukia dozed in one of their laps - she wasn't sure whose, since her eyes were closed and she couldn't open them. She heard Renji muttering to Ichigo, as one of them another cup from their dwindling supply of alcohol. “I wish I'd known how damn kinky the two of you were a couple of years ago,” he said.

Ichigo laughed. “You've obviously never seen some of the manga Rukia likes. She's shown me stuff I didn't even want to know existed. What really scares me though is that she used to share it with Inoue, too.”

Rukia wondered what that was supposed to mean. She passed out, before she could string the words together to ask.

XXXXXXXX

Waiting was hard, but not knowing if Orihime would ever wake up was worse. Even with such potent distractions at her disposal it had been a long year. Even knowing they had all done everything they could, it was hard. Rukia took one day at a time, much as she had after Kaien had died at her hands. To stay busy she petitioned her brother and was allowed to take the fifth seat in the Thirteenth Division. She trained constantly, sometimes with Renji, sometimes her brother. Talking to her sword was difficult though. She couldn't concentrate deeply enough without panicking. What if she got trapped in her inner world like Orihime?

It was around this time she decided – after all she had known, all she had observed – love was the cruelest, most painful thing you could impose upon someone. Her brother might actually agree with her for once. There was no getting rid of it. So many variations of it hummed within her being, she wondered if it was possible her soul might fly apart at the strength of her feelings.

When he noticed she was perturbed, Ichigo would tuck her in against his chest, and try to offer solace. Impatient, Renji would drag her out shopping or to a show, and make her at least act like she had a life. She looked out for them too, in their little system, taking care of one was taking care of the other.

XXXXXXXX

Snow lay thick on the ground, blinding white and deliciously cold. Rukia, with a small group of other revelers, including Renji and Ichigo, were tossing up and ruining the smooth expanse that stretched out over a soccer field in Karakura Town.

“How can you call that a snowbunny? It doesn't even look anything like a rabbit, Rukia!” yelled Ichigo, as he dodged snowballs.

“I don't know. I can kind of see ears. Is that the tail?” Renji said, lifting his sunglasses and pointing to the lower half of the small sculpted hump of snow.

She frowned up at him, her arms crossed in irritation. Her purple mittens were encrusted in snow and she was tempted to use his face to knock the clumps off. “That is his adorably floppy foot, Renji.”

“Oh, okay yeah, I see it,” he said, just as he got nailed in the face with a huge snowball. “Gah!”

“Suck up,” Ichigo said, as he sneered over at Renji. Renji shrugged, and brushed the snow from his lenses. Moments later, Rukia snickered as Ichigo got a handful of snow down the back of his coat.

XXXXXXX

Alive. She was alive. Orihime was alive, just enough to breathe, to generate brainwaves, dreaming, trapped in some world they could not reach. Rukia wished Aizen hadn't been so completely destroyed, so he could experience some of the deeper levels of Hell for all eternity. What he had done to Orihime's soul was certainly worthy of it. This was something else she didn't talk to them about.

Between Renji and Ichigo, she was afraid sometimes. Their love was such a concrete, definite thing, so intense it was like being caught between two stars of equal gravity. Adding Orihime would destroy that balance, and she knew it. At the same time she begged for release from the heartache. She wanted her. Her smile, her soft voice, her delicate little hands, her unconditional friendship and love.

XXXXXXXX

She was screaming when she woke.

“Wake up Rukia, damn it wake up. You're going to wake Byakuya up, and I doubt he'll like seeing me here,” Ichigo said in his loudest whisper, shaking her by the shoulders.

“Hime- Orihime.” Rukia raised her hand in front of her face and then clenched it and sobbed. She'd almost caught her hand.

Ichigo let go, and stroked her tangled hair back from her face, “Rukia, it was a dream. You're okay, it was just a dream.”

“No. No it was not.”

XXXXXXXX

 

They were alive, love was all around, and her bed was always warm when she lay down at night. It was easier if they came to her. Some nights it was Renji, on others Ichigo would show up, sometimes both, depending on when Ichigo could return to Soul Society, and if Renji had work he couldn't get out of. If her brother noticed he didn't say a word; they were always discreet.

She liked falling asleep between them. Within that protective cage of arms and legs, muscle and bone, blood and spirit, Renji stroking her hair or her breast as Ichigo kissed him over her head - she could let go for a while. Just a little while longer, and when that day came they could be whole again.


End file.
